


Aces

by Hanna_Tucker



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Cliffhangers, Episode: s01e16 Shuttlepod One, Hypothermia, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Q decides to show up at the worst time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 04:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20039965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna_Tucker/pseuds/Hanna_Tucker
Summary: "Trip," Trip repeated. "We can quit the formalities, Mal. You can call me Trip." Malcolm didn't say anything. The shivering engineer, who he had come to care very deeply about, was on the brink of death. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, the Brit could do except watch him die.And then Malcolm would die on this shuttlepod alone.





	Aces

**Author's Note:**

> What is it with me and tropes all of a sudden, lol? :) I wrote a good chunk of this maybe a month ago, but never finished it until today. I kinda feel like the dialogue could use a bit of work, but overall I'm satisfied with the result. Constructive criticism is appreciated, FLAMES are NOT.

"You check it. Ah don't think Ah can move mah legs."

Malcolm looked over at Trip with concern. "Tri- er, Commander... I'm no doctor, but I don't think that's a good sign." He shuffled over a bit so he was in front of the engineer. "Is it alright if I take off your boot and sock?"

"Why, ya want mah toes to fall off sooner?" Trip quipped, his twinkling blue eyes flicking towards the armoury officer. "Yah, Ah guess it's okay."

Malcolm gently removed Trip's boot, then his sock. "Oh... my god," the Brit murmured as he took Trip's foot in his hands. It was a sickly pale blue, tinged here and there with purple. "Can... can you feel my hands?"

"No," Trip replied, his teeth chattering loudly as he shook from the cold. Malcolm's heart sank. He wasn't a doctor but he knew that it wasn't good if Trip lost the feeling in his foot. "Can't feel anythin' with mah other foot, either."

"Oh, Trip..." Malcolm didn't realise that he let the nickname slip. He proceeded to remove Trip's other boot and sock, then plopped both feet in his lap.

"What're ya doin'?" Trip asked, his voice hoarse.

"Hush," Malcolm murmured softly, covering the engineer's feet with part of his blanket. "You might end up losing a few toes anyway."

Trip chuckled, managing a small grin. "Very funny, Malcolm. Couldja uh... put your hands on my feet, too?"

Malcolm flushed slightly with embarrassment. "I'm not sure what good that will do," he replied, "seeing as your feet are cold as it is. But if you think it will help..." He reached underneath the blanket and gently placed his hands on Trip's feet. They felt so cold. "How do your legs feel?"

"They're cold too," Trip replied. "Like everythin' else."

"But can you still feel them?" Malcolm asked. "Are they numb?"

"They're kinda tingly." Trip thought a moment. "How are ya holdin' up?"

"Not much better than you are," Malcolm told him, shivering lightly as he rubbed his thumb gently on Trip's toes. "Feel anything in your feet yet?"

"Nope."

Malcolm sighed softly, still rubbing Trip's toes in slow, gentle motions. "I hope that they get here in time. I don't think this is working." Trip was silent. "Commander?" Malcolm looked up to see Trip's eyes were closed. "Shit! Trip, stay awake!" Malcolm reached a hand out of the blanket and shook the engineer's leg. "Commander, wake up!"

Trip eyes opened slightly as he groaned. "Ah think Ah'm fadin', Lieutenant."

"No, stay with me!" Malcolm told him fiercely. "Stay awake!" He shuffled to Trip's side and grabbed his face with his hands. "Eyes on me."

"Maybe it's for the best," Trip murmured, as his breath slowed. "You'd get twenty hours of air. Greater chance of _Enterprise_ gittin' to ya in time."

Malcolm shuddered at the thought. "No, don't talk like that. Don't... don't say that. Just stay with me. Don't you dare die on me. I've invested far too much time in trying to figure you out, Mistah Tuckah! I'm not about to accept that it was all for nothing."

"Trip."

"What?"

"Trip," Trip repeated. "We can quit the formalities, Mal. You can call me Trip." Malcolm didn't say anything. The shivering engineer, who he had come to care very deeply about, was on the brink of death. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, the Brit could do except watch him die.

And then Malcolm would die on this shuttlepod alone.

"Trip," Malcolm addressed, cringing at the crack in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"I... I don't want to lose you," Malcolm said, feeling uncertain of himself. "And I don't want to die alone." He thought a moment, carefully considering his next words, then continued, "But I don't want you to think you have to keep fighting for me, because... I... I know you're suffering. If you feel like you have to let go... if you _want_ to let go..."

"Malcolm," Trip spoke, his voice all of sudden firm. "Did Ah say Ah was goin' down without a fight? 'Sides, if Ah die, Ah won't git to do _this_ again."

"Do what?"

For answer, Trip lifted up a trembling hand and reached out to cup the side of Malcolm's face. The engineer tried to lean forward, but his body refused to cooperate. Suddenly Malcolm realised what Trip wanted and he leaned in instead. His lips pressed against Trip's for a few seconds before he pulled away.

"Trip?" Trip was unresponsive. His eyes were now closed, his body shivering lightly. Malcolm's chilled fingers tangled in the dying man's hair as he started to sob. "Please... don't... don't die on me now, Trip." And then Trip's chest heaved sickeningly hard, then no more. Malcolm felt frozen in time. He didn't know how long at had been until he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers lightly against Trip's icy lips. "No... Trip, god, no!" The armoury officer grabbed the inert body by the shoulders and shook frantically. "Shit! Trip! Wake up! This isn't funny... please..."

But he was gone. Malcolm released the limp man from his grip and sat back in his heels, the deathly silence sinking in. After a moment, solemnly he reached into the small storage bin beside him and pulled out a phase pistol. He changed the setting on the weapon and slowly lifted it to his head, ready to pull the trigger.

"Well, this is depressing."

Malcolm whipped around, lowering the phase pistol. A man of about forty or so sat in one of the shuttlepod chairs, legs crossed, and clearly not in Starfleet Regulation attire. "Who... the hell are you?" Malcolm demanded, now aiming his pistol at the intruder.

"Who I am is of no concern to you," the other man replied. "It's what _I_ can _do_ for you that should be your concern. Your friend, Spike or whatever-"

"Trip," Malcolm hissed. "His name was Trip."

"Yeah, whatever. He's dead. But it doesn't have to stay that way."

Malcolm stared disbelievingly at the man. "I'm sensing a 'but.'"

"You need to do something for me," the stranger explained. "I'll bring your friend back, and even get your ship here sooner, but in return I expect you to do what I tell you. No questions asked and no hesitation. Otherwise, I'll undo all my handywork here, Spike and all."

Malcolm bit his lip thoughtfully as he silently considered the offer. If he accepted, Trip could live again. _Enterprise_ would get to them in time. But if what this stranger wanted in return endangered the crew of _Enterprise_ or Starfleet, then he couldn't take that chance.

And Trip would stay dead. Malcolm closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He then opened his eyes and looked at the intruder.

He knew what he needed to do.

~Fin~


End file.
